Stop The Protest
by notEASYbeingGREEN
Summary: What if Mark and Roger decided to try and stop Maureen's protest?
1. You'll See

**A/N: this has been in my head for the longest time. I don't know if someone has done it or not, but I wanted to give it a shot.**

"Just stop the protest, and you'll have it made!" Benny cried. "Think about it, you guys. You'll be able to do the things you love, free of charge." Mark and Roger looked skeptical -- Benny decided to go in for the kill. "You can live in condos, boys."

The two bohemians exchanged a glance. Roger hopped off of the Range Rover. "Give me and my client some time to talk."

Mark sighed. "Why am I always the client?" he muttered.

Benny stifled a laugh. "Listen, I'll let you two think it over. Gimme a call tomorrow with the decision, okay?" He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Mark. "That's what it's gonna look like."

Mark shifted uncomfortably. "What about the tent city?"

"Mark, Roger, we're not making them leave public property," Benny explained. "I'm the owner of that lot, and I have the right to do whatever the hell I want to it. I gave them all notices to warn them that they should be gone in about four months." He hesitated for a moment. "If not, then we kick them out."

"Yeah, Benny, I get that," Mark said. "Where are they going to go? Almost all of them have AIDS ..."

"I also told them about the other vacant lot not too far away from the old one." He patted himself on the back for that one.

"Well, are they okay with that?" Mark was inching back to Maureen's side of this argument.  
Benny nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I gave 'em time to move, they'll be gone in about three weeks." Benny turned to Mark. "If only a few people show up at Maureen's protest, she'll be crushed. You should let her know what I did to help the homeless people. Like I said, give me a call."  
Benny nodded towards the two other men, walked over to his car, got in, and drove away.

"Stop the protest," Roger said quietly, testing how it sounded coming out of his own mouth. He turned to Mark, who was standing on the sidewalk, filming the 'Over The Moon' posters. "Should we do it?"

"Um, Rog, I would love to live in a condo just as much as the next guy," Mark began, "but this is Maureen we're talking about here. Come on, man, if we even try to stop this protest, you think we'll live to see tomorrow?"  
Roger stared at him grimly. "You never know."

"Oh God, Roger -- I -- no, wait -- that, um, that came out wrong --" Mark sighed. "Listen, Maureen will kill us if we try to stop her performance. And knowing Maureen, she really would attempt murder."

Roger remained angry. "I wanna do it." His face softened a little. "Come on, Mark. I want a better life than this. I want my one song glory!" He placed a friendly hand on Mark's shoulder. "You have the talent to become a big filmmaker one day. You need equipment and funding for that. And, we could always bribe Maureen, or get her drunk ..."

Mark slowly began to nod. "Yeah, Rog," he said, smiling. "Let's stop this protest."

**A/N: now that it's posted, it needs reviews. :D**


	2. Talking to Maureen pt 1

** A/N: wow. Thank you guys for reviewing! P.S. -- Mark and Joanne are already friends in this … erm, I don't exactly know why, but they're chums.**

Roger's forehead was damp with sweat, and his fingers were numb. He was trying to pull Mark out of the loft. Roger had a good hold on Mark's arm, and his scarf, nearly choking him. The little filmmaker wouldn't budge.

"GOD DAMN IT MARK!" Roger shouted. He finally let go of him and plopped down in a seat. "We have to go talk to Maureen if we want to convince her to quit!"

"But she's _Maureen,_" he quipped. He began cracking his knuckles, something he did when he was nervous. "You really think that she'll listen to us? Can't we just get, you know, Collins or someone to do it?"

"_Sure _Mark, that's a _great_ idea!" Roger said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Mark sat down in a chair across from Roger. "Fine. You go, then."

"Mark, you think Mo will listen to me?"

Mark thought a moment. "Oh, well, you do have a point, there..."

"Ha!" Roger smiled. "So you'll come?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no, Rog."

"I'll make my puppy-dog eyes!" Roger threatened.

Mark jumped out of his seat and flew out of the door. Roger thought that his puppy-dog eyes were incredibly cute and cuddly, but almost everyone else thought otherwise. Mark could never choose between having a seizure or just swallowing a slug.

The two men made their way over to the girls' apartment. Mark was sweating slightly, but Roger's shoulders were thrown back, and a proud expression was strewn across his face. But when both of them saw Maureen's smiling face and happy-go-lucky attitude, all confidence was drained out of them completely.

"Oh my God, you guys, hey!" she whisper-squealed. "Pookie's asleep, so be quiet." She ushered them inside and sat them down on two chairs. Joanne was lying peacefully on the couch under a large comforter. Her small curls of hair were falling over her eyes and nose, moving every time she breathed out.

"I want her to rest up for tomorrow," Maureen said. "You know, to make her proud of me." She gave her girlfriend a gentle kiss on the cheek. Joanne stirred and slowly sat up. One arm reached out from under the blanket to shove her hair out of her face, then was immediately withdrawn back into the blanket.

When she realized that Roger was in her house, she moved back.

"Roger," she said hoarsely and hurriedly, "I have a cold. I don't know why Maureen didn't tell you. And not to sound rude or anything, but get out of my house."

Roger nodded quickly with a small chuckle. His hand covered his mouth. "Feel better." He turned to Mark with a smirk on his face. "Bye, Marky."

Joanne held in her cough until Roger walked out the door. Right after, she began to cough and shiver. Mark watched as Maureen went over to her and took her in her arms. Joanne rested her head on Maureen's chest as the diva rocked her back and forth. Once Joanne's coughing subsided, she snuggled under the comforter again.

"Sorry, Mark," she whispered, then sneezed a few times. "I think that I'm gonna head to bed. And no, Maureen, you can't join me." With an apologetic smile, she stood shakily and walked to the bedroom after stroking Maureen's cheek for a few seconds. This left Maureen and Mark alone in the living room.

"God, I feel so bad for her," Mark said. "It sucks being sick."

Maureen nodded. "I really hope she can come tomorrow. You're coming, right Mark?"

Mark shifted in his seat. "That's, um, actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Her face fell. "You can't come?"

"Mo, I didn't say that."

"What, then?" She was growing impatient.

He sighed. "Can I have a glass of water?"

"Damnit, Mark, this isn't some kind of speech!" She slammed her hand on the side of the couch in anxiety. "What the hell do you want to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that, uh, um, well," he cleared his throat, "I need to say that, erm," swallowed loudly, "Uh, Mo, can I go in and talk to Joanne?"

"Make it quick, you little albino pumpkin head!" she screeched.

xXxXxXxXx

Joanne was awoken by the sound of her girlfriend calling Mark an albino pumpkin head. She moaned and sat up, knowing that one of them was going to come bursting through the door any --

"Joanne, so glad you're up!" Mark said, his large head peeking in the room. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She sat up on the bed and patted the spot next to her. "Sure."

He walked in and shut the door, then ran over, only to trip on his own two feet. He fell on top of Joanne in a rather awkward position, if you catch my drift.

"Mark, this is so unexpected," she teased in a deep voice.

He quickly sat up, blushing a deep shade of red. "Um, Jo, I really need to tell you --"

"That you don't want to go tomorrow?" she asked. Her throat began to tickle, so she reached for her glass of water and downed the whole thing in a single breath, along with two Asprins. "I have a headache and I think something like the flu, but I'm still going. She'd be devastated if you didn't. Mark, I'm asking you as a friend to please consider --"

"My God, would you let me talk?" Mark asked in a loud whisper. "Listen, I can't let her hear this." Joanne nodded, and Mark proceeded to explain his entire plan: from talking to Benny, to coming over here with Roger, and finally, attempting to convince Maureen "Stubborn-As-A-Jackass" (as he so lovely put it) Johnson.

Joanne sighed. "What's in it for Maureen?"

"Um. Jo, that's a great question. Uh, can I use your phone, please?"  
Mark speedily dialed Benny's cell phone number that he read from the little scrap of paper that he had it written down on. "Hey, Benny, it's Mark … Uh, nope, I haven't talked to her yet … I'm at her house now. Joanne's sick with the flu, and Roger isn't here … Benny, he can't be here … WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY CAN'T HE BE HERE? THE MAN HAS AIDS! YOU WANT HIM TO DIE? … Benny, you ass. I'm serious, that's not something to even joke about … I called to see what Maureen would get if she didn't perform … You're kidding me. You really know her? … Wow, Mo would love that! … Nah, I'll tell her … Because she hates you … Okay … Bye."

Joanne was burrowed under her blanket when he hung up the phone. "What'd he say?" she asked quietly.

"Well, basically, Muffy --"

"Alison. It's Alison, mister," Joanne said mock-sternly.

"Fine. _Alison _knows an actress on Broadway. What's the the name … uh, hmm. Dina? Dina Mennel? Well, it slipped my mind." Mark paused for breath. "Anyway. Alison knows this actress, and the show that she's in is looking for an understudy. The auditions are the morning after Mo's performance, and you and I both know she'll be bombed after the party at the Life after the show. If she gets enough sleep for this audition and skips the protest then -- Joanne Jefferson, are you listening?"

No. She wasn't. Joanne was curled up under her blanket, fast asleep. Mark sighed and spread another blanket over her. He knew that he couldn't put this talk off forever.

A/N: too lazy to put it in bold. anyhoodles, whaddaya think so far?

**  
**


	3. Talking To Maureen pt 2

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I really appreciate it! Here's the third chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

Mark quickly stepped out of the room that Joanne was sleeping in. He didn't want to get sick, or wake her. He sat down on the couch next to Maureen again, and she turned to him quickly. He noticed the almost empty wine bottle next to her.

"I got bored," she hiccuped. "What took you so long?"

Mark blushed. "I was on the phone."

"Are you kidding? You never talk on the phone," Maureen stated.

Mark shook his head. "I'm serious."

"DON'T YOU LIE TO ME!" Maureen yelled.

"Maureen, I was talking to Benny," Mark said. "I swear to God."

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN GOD!" She paused. "AND WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU TALKING TO BENNY? YOU HATE BENNY! I BET YOU WEREN'T REALLY ON THE PHONE!"

"I was on the phone! You can ask Joanne, she was right there!"

Maureen grew wide-eyed. "Oh oh _oh_! So it's _Joanne_! ARE YOU HAVING AN AFFAIR? WERE YOU TRYING TO SEDUCE MY GIRLFRIEND WITH YOUR CAMERA SKILLS? I WILL RELEASE THE NINJA POWER WITHIN IF YOU WERE!"

"Maureen, please, stop," he begged. "I'm not having an affair with Joanne. And besides, this can't be good for your voice when you have an audition coming up."

Oops.

She giggled wildly. "An _audition_? I don't have any _audition_! I have my protest! And I have my _cow_! POWER TO THE ELSIE!"

Then she fell off of the couch.

"You're drunk," Mark mumbled. He sat her back up, then got her a glass of water. "Look, I'm saying that I found you an audition. It's for a very successful show on Broadway."

Maureen's face lit up. She jumped on Mark, gave him a bone-crushing hug, then began to dance. She jumped up and down, did the monkey, then moon-walked. When she sat down again, she was beaming. "When am I going?"

"Mo, don't get mad." Maureen got a worried look on her face. "It's the morning after your protest."

Maureen snorted. "I'll do both! Yeah! I'm like super-woman! Protest, then audition! I bet Roger could write a song about that."

"What about the party at the Life Cafe?" Mark challenged. "You really think that your hangover from that is gonna wear off for a nine o'clock audition?"

Maureen's face fell for the second time that day. "Oh."

"Yeah." Mark laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should think about it? This could be your Broadway debut, too. Remember that."

Maureen sighed and nodded. She sobered up a little bit. "Hey," she slurred slightly. "How'd you find the audition?"

"Um. Ad in the paper or something. Uh, I don't know, I heard about it somewhere.""Oh, alright." Maureen stood up. "You can go home, if you want. This might take a little while for me to think about. NO WISE-ASS REMARKS!"

"Um, okay, Mo. Good luck."

Right before he was about to walk out, Mark turned and said, "Honestly, I think you'll do great either way."

"Thanks, Mark." She stood up and walked over to him. "Okay, I seriously need a hug right now."

Mark bent down and gave her a warm hug. When he pulled away, he smiled. "What do you think you're gonna choose?"

"My God, I don't know." She ran her fingers through her hair nervously. "What do you think I should do?"

Mark shrugged. "What'll make you happier?"

"Being on Broadway."

"So you're going for the part?"

She thought for a minute. "But the tent city! Those people are like my family!" She was oblivious to the quizzical look that Mark was giving her. "I can't just let them be all homeless and stuff!"

Mark smiled. "That's what I was on the phone with Benny for. He asked them to move to a different place, also a vacant lot, but bigger."

Maureen raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Well … why didn't he tell me that?" Maureen sighed and stormed over to the phone. "BENJAMIN COFFIN THE THIRD, YOU MOTHERFU- … Oh, hi Muffy. Alison, whatever. Is Benny there? … Yeah, put him on, please. Thanks … This Benny? … I AM GOING TO TURN YOU INTO A BENNY-KABOB! YOU ASS! … You didn't even tell me about the other vacant lot! … If you had ANY BRAINS AT ALL, YOU WOULD HAVE TOLD ME! … Because then I wouldn't have had to do the protest … NO, I'M NOT STOPPING! THIS COW IS MY PASSION! … Wait just a gosh darned minute, how'd you know about the audition … SAY WHAT, NOW? … HE WHAT? … Damn! … Wait, Muffy knows who? … She can? … WHY DOES THE WORLD HATE ME SO? … Because, Benjamin, I am about to make one of the most crucial decisions of my LIFE! … That's another story … I'll call you back … No, I still hate you … Bye."

She slammed down the phone. "I have a day to decide." She turned to Mark with a distressed look on her face. "Screw wine, I need vodka."


	4. The Decision

**A/N: I want to get this fic done! I am determined! Oh, and I just got a fictionpress account, btw. Under the same penname, of course. See, me and my friends come up with CRAZY Idina/Taye stories, and I figured, what better place to post them? I'll be putting up some stories in a few days ... so PLEASE, people. Go check them out. Now, it's Fic time. (P.S. -- I LOVE MoJo. That's not some kind of random fact, it's a warning.)  
**

Maureen woke up the next morning with a killer hangover. Joanne, who would have usually been at work by now, was sitting next to her. She was holding a plate of eggs, a glass of water, and a bottle of Asprin. When Joanne saw that Maureen was awake, she smiled and placed the tray on the bed.

"Honeybear, you okay?" Joanne asked, planting a small kiss on Maureen's forehead. "By the time you came into bed last night you were drunk. No, you weren't just drunk, you were _bombed_." Joanne's expression became much softer. "Maureen, forgive me if I'm wrong, but you're not the type of person who just gets drunk out of nowhere. Did something happen?"

"Joanne, if you know _anything_ about me, you'd know that I get drunk all the time." Maureen sat up slowly, moaning and grabbing her head. "Give me that Asprin."

Joanne rolled her eyes. "Here." She sat Maureen up a little bit more then helped her down the pills and the water. "So nothing's wrong? There's absolutely nothing that you want to tell me?"

Maureen rubbed her head. "Give me a minute, Pookie." She fell back against the pillow, not noticing the hint of a smile threatening to show on Joanne's face. "Oh God, what happened, now? Okay, let me think. Mark was here. And then he went into our room. He told me something ... Oh my God, the audition!"

Joanne laughed. "He told me the bare bones of the idea. Fill me in, please."

"There's an _audition_ the morning after my fucking protest," she said. Slowly, the reality of the situation began to hit her -- Well, it had hit her when she was drunk, but that didn't count. She sat up and her eyes filled with tears. "Joanne, my God, this isn't _right_. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't just _stop_ the fucking protest, I _advertised_ it. I even put up God-damned _posters_. But this could be my Broadway debut. _Broadway_, Joanne, the whole reason I _moved_ to New York." She looked at Joanne helplessly. "What do I do?"

Joanne opened her arms, and Maureen fell into them. "Honey, this isn't a decision I can make for you. I can help you, but I can't do all of the work." She stroked Maureen's arm lovingly, kissing the top of her head. "How about you eat something? Maybe we can take a walk, or you could take a walk to think, then we can talk about this. Okay?"

Maureen cuddled into Joanne even more. "Benny only gave me a day to decide."

"Okay. But you still need to eat."

Maureen smiled. "Okay." She grabbed the eggs and took a bite. "I don't know why the hell I'm hungry after drinking a bottle of vodka and a bottle of wine last night, but I am."

Joanne chuckled. "Baby, I'm gonna go grab myself some food. You need anything else?"

"No thanks," Maureen said, and Joanne stood. "But hey, why aren't you at the firm?"

"I quit," Joanne said. Maureen choked on her egg. "My God, I'm kidding. I took the day off, I called in sick yesterday," Joanne explained. "I thought I had the flu, but apparently I only had one of those 24-hour bugs. I feel fine, but I need a day off anyway."

She smiled, and started for the door, but once again, Maureen stopped her. "Hey, Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?" Maureen asked with a pure smile on her face.

Joanne beamed. "Of course, Sweetheart. I love you too."

-

After a while, Maureen's headache subsided, and she went to sit with Joanne on the couch. She wrapped herself up in a blanket to block the cold December air, and also had a cup of tea.

"So Maureen, let's look at this problem logically," Joanne said. Maureen tried to discretely roll her eyes, but Joanne saw. "Mo, I'm serious. I don't mean we have to think about this until we despise the entire concept, but we should at least try to think about it in the most organized way we can."

"And you're saying that you won't be doing all of the work."

"Maureen, please, we can't argue about this." Joanne sighed. "How about we look at pros and cons?"

"Whosawatsit?"

"The good and bad characteristics of each one," Joanne patiently explained. "Good stuff first. What's good about this audition?"

"Oh, lots of things," Maureen said. "It's an open audition, so anyone can enter, meaning you don't have to have much theater background. Which I don't.** (A/N: I'm not sure if you have to have experience or not for an open audition ... just go with me)** Also, there's a chance that I'll make my debut on Broadway if I get this part. And I'm sure I'll get it. My voice rules!"

"Yeah, Mo, you have a great voice. No doubt you'll get the part if you try for it." Joanne nodded. "Alright. Bad things?"

"I may not get the part," Maureen said glumly.

"Um, hello, didn't you hear me?" Joanne asked, exasperated. "I said that you'll most likely get the part!"

"But there are going to people at the audition who have better voices than I do," Maureen said. "And I may fuck up royally when I go in, or I might get too nervous to even go. Or I might get scared in front of the people I'm auditioning for." She sighed. "Joanne, this is freaking me out."

"Honeybear, your call. You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Joanne reassured. "Okay, let's move onto the protest. What's good about it?"

"Alrighty, then. Well, I wrote it, so it kicks total ass." Joanne glared at her. "You helped too, sheesh. So, we wrote it, and it's for a really good cause. Well, _was_ for a really good cause. Benny gave the tent city a new place to set up." She shrugged. "What's the point of even doing this protest anymore?" Maureen's eyes widened. "I'd just be making an idiot out of myself. Oh my God, there's no point!"

Joanne winced. "We weren't on the bad things yet, but, Honeybear, there is a good reason for doing this protest." Maureen raised her eyebrows. "Baby, I've lived here for God only knows how long. I've never seen another vacant lot before! Where'd Benny say it was?"

"Um, let me get the paper Mark gave me," Maureen said. She reached to the small coffee table next to the couch and grabbed the paper off of it. She quickly scanned over it. "Eleventh and Avenue C."

"By the Cat Scratch?"

"Yeah, Pooks, why?"

"Is he kidding?" Joanne said, a look of disgust on her face. "That lot is about four times _smaller_ than the one those people are living in now. Benny's totally wrong about this."

"Can we sue him?" Maureen asked. "And you go to the Cat Scratch?"

"Um, no and most definitely not," Joanne said. "I know the area pretty well. I wonder why, though? It's not like we go there all the time to see everyone. Right?"

"Oh yeah. That." Maureen giggled a little. "So Benny is still the lying bastard that we all think he is?"

"Sure enough!"

They shared a good laugh before Maureen said, "I'm doing the protest."

**A/N: Next chapter is the last. Review!**


	5. Over The Moon

**A/N: Last chapter! Thanks to all who reviewed. (Even though there aren't that many lol)  
**

Maureen arrived at the protest stage to see Mark and Joanne laughing. She smiled; she was glad that they got along. She threw down her bag and climbed up onto the stage, giving Mark a wave and Joanne a kiss.

"Um, Maureen," Mark started. She looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Look, I'm sorry about trying to convince you to stop this thing. Definitely not one of my smarter ideas."

"Oh, it's okay," Maureen shrugged. "It's still gonna happen, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, Mo, it kind of does," he argued. "After all, your cow is your passion!"

Maureen groaned. "Are you_ ever_ going to let that go?"

"Ha, no way!" Mark smiled joyfully and laughed. "Maureen, I always knew that you were funny when you were drunk, but, man ..."

"Alright, Mark, I get it," Maureen huffed. "Jesus. Anyway. Marky, you want to watch me perform it again?"

Mark's eyes widened. "Maureen. As much as I would _love_ to, I don't have my camera. And I think that my camera should get another take of your performance. Thirty-second time's the charm, right?" He began to back away. "I'm sure that Jo would love to watch, though."

As Mark ran out of the performance space, he could hear Joanne yelling various choice words to him.

-

At a quarter to midnight, a crowd of people had already begun to form around the stage. Benny and his father-in-law were standing towards the back. Various homeless people who were passing them gave them dirty looks, and occasionally flipped them off. Mr. Gray did his best to ignore this, but it was pretty obvious he was getting angry.

Joanne waved to Mark from her position at the spotlight. He waved back, then pointed over to Roger. Joanne followed his finger and found that Roger was with a girl. Joanne smiled and wiggled her eyebrows playfully. He laughed at her, and she laughed back.

After this, Mark didn't do all that much. He sort of just stood there, until he heard Joanne trying to get his attention.

"Jesus, finally," she half-said, half-shouted to him. "I've been waving and jumping for about five minutes."

"Well, Ms. Jefferson, can I help you?"

"Go get your scrawny white ass set up to film this thing!"

Mark's jaw dropped. "Joanne, I've never heard you talk like that!" He smiled. "I'm so proud!"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and with a wave, he departed for the front of the crowd.

Maureen made her entrance at exactly twelve o'clock -- surprisingly, she wasn't "fashionably late." She performed beautifully, speaking loudly at some parts and quietly at others. When she talked about Benny and his family, she used the most emphasis, and made them feel very uncomfortable. Joanne was beaming during the entire protest. Mark caught all of it on tape, even the riot that followed. Drama always seemed to follow Maureen.

When everyone met at the Life Cafe, Maureen asked to propose the toast.

"Mo, that's my job!" Collins said sternly. When Maureen began to sat down, he let out one of his famous belly-laughs. "I'm just playin' wit you, girl. Go ahead, you deserve it!"

"Thank you, Thomas," she said. She turned to everyone and picked up her wine glass. "First, thank you guys so much for coming. It was awesome for you to be there ... and I'm not being sappy, so don't say anything Roger!" Roger laughed. "Okay, second. Did I kick ass or _what_?"

Cheers erupted from the entire table. Maureen bowed not-so-humbly.

Roger's stomach growled. "Maureen. I'm hungry. If you don't finish up soon I think I may pass out."

"Oh shut up," she snapped. "Now. Last thing, I swear. Listen, I just wanted to say," she turned to Benny, who was sitting at the table across from theirs, "that, even though I could have auditioned for a show _on Broadway,_ I did this protest. Ya wanna know why, Benjamin?"

"No."

"Yes you do. I did this protest because it's what matters more to me. Being on Broadway would have been nice, but this is an issue that I really do care about. Those people have been living there since only God knows when! It's not right to just take them out of their homes. So, Benny, what do you have to say to that?!"

"We break ground mid-January."

**A/N: Okay! You guys, I'm done! I did it! YAY! Again, thanks to you guys who reviewed. It was a fun story to write. I hope to be working more on my other stories now that this one's done ... Hopefully, I'm going to finish _The Second Generation of Bohemia_ and _Once Upon A Time _next. If you haven't read them already, please go to my profile and check them out!**


End file.
